PrussiaxItaly: First Time
by Tsukiko Lawliet
Summary: Kink story from the generator linked on my profile. The kink I landed on was "Virgin uke". Warning: contains rape and mature language. Multiple chapters by request of the readers. Will contain GerIta, PruIta, and possibly others. ;D
1. Chapter 1

Italy was sitting at home alone, saddened because Germany had to leave for a week-long trip. He was staring out the window, his usual bubbly attitude replaced by a solemn one that no one had ever seen. It had only been a few hours, but he already missed Germany badly.

There was a knock at the door, and though Italy knew it wasn't him, he badly wished for Germany to walk through the front door. He stood to answer it when the door burst open before he had even taken a step, and Prussia walked through. "Kesese! Hey, Feliciano!" He shut the door behind him with his foot and grinned at the young Italian.

Italy blinked, then faked a smile. "Ciao," he said.

Prussia walked toward him. "Aww, you down because West had to leave?"

Italy shook his head. "O-of course not!" he faked a laugh.

"I can read you like a book. You need something to cheer you up," Prussia smirked and put an arm around him. "Good thing the awesome me is here, huh?"

Italy looked up at him. "Yeah..."

Prussia frowned. "By the time I'm done with you, you'll lose that attitude." He pulled Feliciano into the kitchen. "How about some beer?"

Feliciano just nodded and sat down at the table. Being best friends with Germany all these years meant he had learned to love beer.

Prussia brought over two bottles and popped the cap off, starting to chug his beer. Italy sighed and sipped his slowly.

"I've never seen you like this," Prussia said. "You've always been carefree and happy little Feliciano to me."

"I just miss Doitsu..." he said, a light blush coming to his face.

Prussia smirked. "I bet you do... or is it you miss the things you two do together?"

Italy tilted his head. "Ve... I miss going to parks and swimming pools, and to the beach..."

Prussia smirked. "That's not what I meant. Don't tell me you don't miss the sex, Feliciano."

Italy coughed, his face turning bright red. "B-but I'm a virgin!"

Prussia's face lit up with an amused, mischievous grin. "Oh really?" He took the beer from Italy. "Come with me."

Gilbert pulled the young Italian upstairs to the guest bedroom, which had been his before he moved out. He sat Italy on the bed.

"Why am I in here?" Italy asked, looking around.

Prussia climbed on top of him, licking his lips. "You expect me to resist a cute virgin like yourself? Nein, I'm going to take you before West even gets the chance." He licked up Italy's neck, earning a shiver from the younger nation.

"S-stop," he pleaded, but Gilbert was already unbuttoning his shirt, and though he squirmed, he couldn't stop him. Soon they were both shirtless, the silver-haired nation pinning him down and grinding against him.

"Gott, it's been forever since I've taken a virgin. I'm so excited," he purred, his boner growing more and more underneath his pants, the young Italian's resistance only egging him on.

"S-stop it!" he cried when Prussia began to remove his pants.

He smirked, removing the Italian's pants and glancing at the boy's erection. "Wow, not bad. It's not as small as I thought it'd be." He grinned, wrapping a hand around his cock and pumping it.

Italy panted, all resistance gone as the wave of pleasure swept through him. He looked up at Prussia with flushed cheeks, practically begging for it. Gilbert of course stroked at a slow pace, torturing the poor virgin.

Feliciano squirmed, clutching the sheets beneath him. Gilbert took this moment of weakness as an opportunity to slam his cock into the Italian.

Feliciano uttered a loud scream, and Gilbert wasted no time, thrusting fast into him. The poor Italian couldn't find words as he was helplessly pounded into, his tight hole already aching from the roughness.

Gilbert thrusted faster, smacking Feliciano's ass a couple times. He could tell the boy's cock was about to burst. He angled himself and hit his prostate dead on.

The next few seconds where they both climaxed was intense, much more intense than Feliciano could have ever imagined.

As the pleasure subsided, Italy panted heavily, covered in sweat. Gilbert was also panting, but grinned at him, pulling himself out. "See, West could have never done that."

Italy just looked at the ceiling, missing Germany even more. "Ve..."


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning, Feliciano woke up very sore. He sat up and it took him a minute before he could manage to stand. Prussia was nowhere to be found, which gave him a sense of relief. He slowly made his way over to the dresser and grabbed some new clothes. He ran to the bathroom to shower himself off after the horrible experience he had had. As he started the shower, tears filled his eyes. "Germany..."

After a very sad shower, he stepped out and put on his new clothes. "I can't even look at those any more," he said as he walked past the bed. Not looking back, he was deep in thought. As he neared the top of the stairs, the phone rang, and it made him jump. He ran for it, hoping it was Germany. He picked up the receiver. "C-ciao, this is Italy," he stuttered, almost dropping the phone with anxiety.

There was a pause, then, "Italy? How are you doing?"

Feliciano's heart skipped a beat. "Oh, Germany! I miss you so bad!"

He laughed a little. "Ja, I miss you too. Turns out I get to leave a couple days early, so I'll only be here for about three more days."

"That's great, Germany! I'll make a big pasta dinner for you!"

"Danke, Italy. Oh, and don't open the door for anyone unless it's your brother or Japan. I wouldn't want anything to happen to you."

His face paled. "W-well, I'll be fine!" His fake happiness was surely see-through.

"Just be careful. I have a surprise for you when I get home." A pause, and then, "Ich liebe dich."

"Ti amo troppo," said the Italian, and then they hung up.

He replaced the receiver, then slumped down against the wall. He knew he should tell Germany about what happened, but he couldn't bring himself to do it just then. Suddenly he got up and ran to lock the doors, remembering what Germany said. He wasn't used to not having Germany to protect him.

"This is crazy," he said to himself. "Who would want to hurt me?" He pushed Prussia out of his mind, because he wouldn't come near him once he told Germany what had happened. He laughed nervously and started walking toward the couch, glancing back to the window cautiously. Right before he sat down, his stomach growled. "Heh, I guess I'm pretty hungry." He went to the kitchen and pulled out some tortellini. "I'll just cook some pasta to take my mind off things." Humming, he put a pot of water on to boil. His anxiety slowly faded as he cooked, the familiar smell of pasta making him feel more at ease. It felt so good that he decided to make some sauce to go with it. Soon the whole house smelled amazing, and Italy smiled, finally content. He plated his food, and took it to the table. With a happy sigh, he started eating.

After the food was gone and the dishes were clean, he lay down on the couch. "Ve, much better." All was quiet except the low hum of the air conditioning. He sighed and closed his eyes. "Maybe I can cope without Germany around." He drifted off into sleep in a matter of seconds.

Germany was the first thing he saw. Ludwig was smiling down at him, holding his arms out for an embrace. Italy jumped toward him, and the German's arms enclosed him in a tight hug. Both were near tears, and neither could think of anything to say.

The happy moment was interrupted by "Kesesese!" And Italy's head turned in fear to see Prussia standing behind Germany. Italy gripped Germany's shirt tight, and Prussia walked closer to them. "Didn't tell him yet?"

Italy let out a scream and sat bolt upright on the couch. He looked around the empty living room, beads of sweat on his body. A glance at the clock told him he had slept for only an hour. He curled up, shaking. "G-Germany, please come home," he muttered. His body felt cold save for the sweat that covered him. Outside he could hear distant thunder. "Maybe it will keep me up and I won't have to dream again.." he mumbled. He looked over at the coffee table and saw a picture of him and Germany at the beach. "Maybe I'll stay down here all night." And that whole night, he did.


	3. Chapter 3

After a slumberless, agonizing night, Italy finally saw daybreak. He yawned, tired but unwilling to sleep. "I wish Germany would come home," he mumbled.

Birds begun chirping, and Italy rose to look out the window. The ground was wet from the storm that had surged on all night, and little mushrooms sprouted up in various places in the yard. Italy turned, and went to the kitchen. He poured a glass of orange juice. He silently sipped it as he walked back to the couch and sat down. He shivered, not only because it was cold in the barren house, but also from remembering his nightmare that had kept him up all night. Angry tears welled up in his eyes, threatening to fall, but he wiped them away without a word.

The phone ringing startled him. He dashed to answer it, nearly spilling his orange juice in the process. "H-hello?"

"Italy?" It was Germany again. Italy exhaled in relief, his tension leaving him.

"Germany!"

"You know how I said I'd be here for three more days?" he asked.

"Yes, I remember that," Italy replied, sounding hopeful.

Just then the call lost connection, and there was only the sound of the dial tone. "Germany?!" Italy began to shake, and he stared at the phone in worry.

When it started beeping loudly, he replaced the receiver. "Wh-why..?" Tears pushed at his eyes again, and this time he let them fall, slumping down against the wall.

He stared at the phone, hoping it would ring again. He wanted nothing more than to talk to Germany after such a rough night. He curled up and rested his head on his knees, sniffling.

He cried and cried until he eventually dozed off from exhaustion.

"Italy?!" He could hear a muffled voice, and felt himself being shaken. "Italy!"

He let out a groan, unable to really do anything else. He clenched his eyes shut and hoped that everything would just go away.

"Italy, wake up!"

A tear slid out from his closed eyelids, and down his cheek. It was wiped away by whoever was holding him.

"Dammit, I've got to do something.." He felt himself being lifted and carried, but he dare not open his eyes.

He couldn't form words; each time he tried to speak, he could only make noises. "Italy!"

He felt himself be set down on something soft. He didn't want to open his eyes. He felt numb, yet felt extreme heartache and pain at the same time. He managed to whimper, the first real response he could form other than useless groans.

"Italy, answer me, dammit!"

He wanted to look, to open his eyes, but something inside him felt broken. He didn't want to be around anyone, not now. He felt around for a blanket, and once his fingers locked onto one, he pulled it over himself as some sort of shield from the outside world.

"Italy, snap out of it, bastard!"

He began to sob, though he didn't know why. Suddenly the blankets were yanked off and Italy finally looked up at the person.

"Italy, what the hell is wrong with you?" His brother Romano glared down at him.

Italy said nothing; he simply looked down, saddened. Of course it wasn't Germany. That would've been too convenient.

"Speak! I know you can talk," Romano growled, clearly angry. "I come all the way here to check on you after that stupid potato bastard calls my house, and I find you a crumbled pile of loser!"

Italy's teary eyes looked up and met his brother's. "Germany?"

"Finally you say something." Romano crossed his arms. "He called me yesterday, told me to check on you. I told him I'd do it if I got the time to."

Italy grabbed the blanket and held it close. "You.. haven't heard from him today?"

"No." He glared. "But what the hell is wrong with you? Did you get attacked?"

Italy gulped, then shook the memory out of his head. "N-no, I-"

"You're just a pussy, then."

Italy sighed and wrapped himself in the blanket. Romano sat on the bed, frowning. "Feliciano, I was just worried. I didn't mean to upset you."

Italy sniffled and shook his head. "It's okay, brother. You know I forgive you." He managed a smile, a fake one, but a smile nonetheless.

"Want me to stay with you?" Romano asked, giving a sort-of smile.

Italy nodded.

"Alright." He climbed into the other side of the bed and under the covers. "Spain will be worried, but fuck him."

Italy smiled again, this time for real. "Thanks, brother."

Romano grinned. "You're welcome."

And for once, Italy drifted off into a normal sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

Feliciano woke the next morning to find Romano next to him. He was still asleep, and his arms were wrapped around him in an almost protective manner. He smiled. For the first time since Germany left, he felt happy. He snuggled close to his brother.

Romano's eyes fluttered open. "Feliciano?"

"I know you don't like physical contact, but..." Feliciano started, but Romano actually smiled.

"Don't worry."

Feliciano's eyes brightened and he sat up, with Romano doing the same a second after. "You really think I'd abandon my own brother when he needs me?" Romano said, a half smile pulling at his lips.

"Of course not, Fratello." Feliciano kept his smile, his cheerful demeanor slowly returning.

"Good." Romano got out of bed and stood, stretching. "Sorry but I've really gotta go, Spain will kill me if I don't come home." He laughed. "Bastard."

Feliciano looked down for a second. He was sad to see his brother leave so soon, and he feared that once he left he would drift back into the depression that kept him up so late. Romano lifted his chin up. "Look at me. You'll be okay. If anything happens to you I'll kill the bastard that caused it." He grinned and patted his head, then headed out the door. "Arrivederci!"

"Goodbye, fratello!" Feliciano called back. He got out of bed too, still in his clothes from the day before. He headed to his dresser and got new clothes, slipping them on while thinking. He pushed Prussia into the far crevices of his mind and focused on what could've happened to Germany. He was immensely worried, but also frustrated because he felt so helpless. If Germany had been okay, he would've called back, right? Feliciano shook his head, not wishing to ruin his mood by worrying too much. As he slipped on his last article of clothing, he stared out the window. The countryside was beautiful. The sun was out for once, and he could hear birds singing in the distance. There was a light breeze.

"What a beautiful day, I wish I could go outside, but Germany said I shouldn't, especially with Gilbert running around." Feliciano shook his head. Better to play it safe. "Besides, what if he comes home?" He headed downstairs, keeping that thought in the front of his mind to generate hope. He seemed to need more hope. He'd never realized how dependent he was on Germany until now. Now that he thought about it, he couldn't think of a time since Germany first found him that he'd been without Germany for more than a short period of time. Even when he was his prisoner, he was happy.

"I love him, I can't change that. I always will." Feliciano said out loud. He could see the trees outside dripping with rainwater. He took one last look outside before heading to the kitchen to make breakfast.

Cooking always seemed to help his mood. While he scrambled some eggs, he hummed to himself, filling his mind with visions of him and Germany. Mostly fantasies, but some memories mixed in with them. He plated his food and sat down to eat.

When finished, he took his plate to the sink and began washing. He felt at ease, finally.

Suddenly he felt strong arms wrap around his waist from behind. He gasped and felt himself picked up a few feet in the air. Romano must have left the door unlocked!

"E-eep!" he let out a cry, squirming before he felt lips against the back of his neck. "Italy... I missed you..."

His eyes widened. This wasn't real. It wasn't happening. His body froze, stopped responding altogether. His breath caught in his throat.

He felt himself be set down and flipped around, and he looked up into Germany's eyes. It was real. It wasn't a dream. He really was there.

Tears burst from his eyes, and he wrapped his arms around him as tight as he could manage. He sobbed furiously into the German's chest before feeling himself pulled into a gentle embrace. "Ssh, it's okay, I'm here now.."

They stayed like that for minutes. It was the best feeling in the world. Feliciano couldn't stop crying, but this time, the tears were good ones.

"D-doitsu.." he sobbed, gripping his shirt, his tears making a significant wet spot in the chest area of it.

"Feliciano."

He managed to stop crying and lifted his head. Germany's eyes reflected obvious confliction. "Romano found me on the way here. He said you weren't well last night." Ludwig wiped the tears from Feliciano's face.

"I.. I thought.."

"You thought something bad happened to me. I can't tell you how sorry I am, that the phone lines went out like that. There was a horrible storm."

Feliciano exhaled a breath that it felt like he had been holding since the day before. His grip on Ludwig's shirt loosened and he felt like he could breathe normally again.

"Did anything happen while I was gone?"

Feliciano's eyes widened. He didn't know if he should tell him. On one hand, he wanted to bring Gilbert to justice. On the other hand, he wanted to enjoy the moment, to be happy and spend time with his lover again. He also feared revenge from Gilbert, knowing what he could do to him.

"Italy?" The German obviously sensed his hesitation, and a look of concern crossed his face.

Italy thought carefully about what he would say next. He had a choice to make.

A big one.


End file.
